Every April brings a new round of enkai farewell and welcome parties among teachers in Japan.

The Japanese Way is a monthly column written by Kure JET Courtney Coppernoll in which she attempts to shed light on how and why certain aspects of Japanese culture differ from our own.

At the end of March every public school in Japan, from elementary school up through high school, experiences what I like to call “The Great Teacher Shuffle,” an event in which teachers across Japan are transferred to new schools at the behest of their respective Boards of Education (BOE). Teachers are given essentially no choice in the matter (aside from quitting their jobs) and their new schools may be located in different cities from the ones in which they currently live and work, requiring an hour-long commute or even a change of address. The average amount of time a teacher spends at a single school before they’re transferred is about three years, though some teachers may stay for five or six years, or even longer.

Since BOEs don’t give a reason for these transfers (and, in fact, transferring teachers are given only a week’s notice about the change) I set off to find out what the motivation is behind employing this kind of system.

• “I don’t know” — Believe it or not, the most common answer I received (from teachers and community members alike) was “I don’t know.” Apparently, frequent transferring is such a natural part of “how things are done” in the Japanese education system that many teachers just haven’t given it much thought. Even one of my JTEs, who spent 10 years at his first school, but has been transferred every three years since then, said he’d never really thought about why his time at any one school had shortened so dramatically.

• Experience — The more schools for which a teacher works, the more experience he or she will gain. By working at a number of schools over their careers, teachers can be exposed to more teaching styles, new ideas, and different types of students and schools. Ideally, this variety of experience will produce better teachers.

• Control — A couple of people mentioned (with furtive glances in both directions) that the Japanese government transfers teachers so frequently in order to prevent unions from forming (one of them actually called it “conspiracy” prevention). The purpose of a union is to allow its members to voice their concerns and to negotiate working conditions with their employers. Essentially, it gives workers more control in the workplace. If the teachers at a school are changed yearly, however, it makes it more difficult for individual schools to form unions because they lack consistent membership and leadership.

• Fairness — Rotating the teachers around every few years or so ensures that no single school is always stuck with a “bad” teacher, while at the same time no single school is able to keep all the “good” teachers. In other words, keeping all the schools on a level playing field.

• Keeping teachers on their toes — One BOE employee told me that the government is concerned that teachers who stay at a single school for too long will start feeling a little too comfortable with their jobs, which may lead to apathy and/or laziness. When a person starts a new job, however, they’re usually very eager to please and want to perform well since they’re “the new guy (or gal).” So, if you start a new job every few years, one would hope that you’d spend more time in the “Yes, let’s work!” phase and less time in the “Yeah, whatever” phase.

I have to admit that I was really surprised at how many “I don’t know” responses I received for this topic, and I can’t help but wonder if teachers at other schools would have something different to say. So, for this particular column, I’d like to do something a little unusual and ask all you lovely readers for a favor, if I may be so bold: Ask your teachers what they think and post their responses here. I’d love to hear other possible explanations!

Do you have questions you’d like Courtney to explore in The Japanese Way? Email them to wideislandview (atto) gmail (dotto) com.

Photo by JoshBerglund19. Published under Flickr Creative Commons License 2.0.

Even monkeys enjoy the onsen. Naked.

The Japanese Way is a monthly column written by Kure JET Courtney Coppernoll in which she attempts to shed light on how and why certain aspects of Japanese culture differ from our own.

By Courney Coppernoll

One of my favorite things about Japan is the onsen. Nothing melts away stress quite like a two- or three-hour soak in a hot bath. So, when I was talking to my mom about going to an onsen when she comes to Japan, she was completely on board with the idea… until I got to the part about being naked. At that point she decided she could do without that particular cultural experience.

My mom’s reaction to onsen is a pretty common one. Not everyone is as comfortable with the idea of shared (or public) bathing as the Japanese are. What, to them, seems like no big deal is often a source of culture shock for many foreigners in Japan. So, why exactly don’t the Japanese wear bathing suits in the onsen?

• “It’s normal” — Almost everyone I asked started off their answer by saying, “Well, because it’s normal.” The idea of wearing a swimsuit apparently just doesn’t occur to most people because it’s a cultural norm to enter the onsen nude. I was also inevitably asked “Why do foreigners want to wear swimsuits?” I answered that I think many people feel embarrassed about being seen naked, which usually just got me a few chuckles. It turns out that some people’s desire to wear swimsuits in the onsen seems just as unusual to many Japanese as their going in the nude seems to some of us.

• Gender-specific Baths — Going along with the above answer, nearly everyone I talked to was confused about why anyone would be embarrassed to be nude when the baths are separated by gender. There are co-ed baths in Japan where swimsuits are allowed, but, as one lady put it, “We (the Japanese) are not shy.” Because it’s a tradition to be nude in the onsen, no one minds being seen nude by people of the same gender.

• Cleanliness — Before you enter the onsen, you’re expected to shower and clean your body. A swimsuit, aside from potentially being unclean itself and dirtying the bath, prevents you from thoroughly scrubbing down your body and getting clean before entering the onsen.

• Warmth — Here, again, the swimsuit gets in the way. One woman told me that it’s nicer to bathe without a swimsuit because that way the heat from the water goes directly to your body and stays there, whereas a swimsuit takes away some of that heat and is also chilled by the air as soon as you step out of the water.

• That Homey Feeling — One person I talked to asked me if I wore a swimsuit in the bath at home. When I said I didn’t, she asked me why then would I wear one in the bath at an onsen. Not wearing a suit makes it feel more like you’re just relaxing in the comfort of your own home — just with a bigger bathtub.

• “Skinship” — While many people responded to my questions about no bathing suits with a straightforward “That’s just how we roll” answer, a few explained that it’s more than just a tradition. The Japanese call it hadaka no tsukiai (裸の付き合い), or “naked fellowship.” It’s the idea that by being naked in the onsen you are exposing yourself in a very intimate way to those around you, which removes barriers to free and open communication. Similar to the way many Japanese feel more comfortable expressing their opinions at an enkai after everyone’s had a few drinks, being nude in the onsen together is a way of bonding with others and *ahem* letting it all hang out.

Whether it’s for relaxation, enjoying a little “skinship,” or simply a tradition, not wearing bathing suits in the onsen is such a natural part of Japanese culture that some of the people I talked to had a hard time explaining why they do it. Of course, not everyone feels the same way. Whether or not you agree with or enjoy visiting onsen, though, I hope this “foreign” custom now makes a little more sense.

Do you have questions you’d like Courtney to explore in The Japanese Way? Email them to wideislandview (atto) gmail (dotto) com.

Photo Credit: Wikipedia

A captive Japanese ATM taunts would-be customers with its service hours. (Photo by Courtney Coppernoll)

The Japanese Way is a monthly column written by Kure JET Courtney Coppernoll in which she attempts to shed light on how and why certain aspects of Japanese culture differ from our own.

By Courtney Coppernoll

In a groundbreaking effort to promote equal rights amongst all its working class employees, Japan has decided to extend vacation benefits to its ATMs. Yes, folks, you heard right. The ATMs of Japan will not be forced to work 24 hours a day, seven days a week like so many of their foreign brethren, no sir! They’ll have public holidays and normal 9 to 5 working hours just like the rest of us! Well done, Japan, well done.

All right, all teasing aside, it’s true that not all Japanese ATMs have service hours. Particularly in bigger cities and at convenience stores such as 7-Eleven, 24-hour ATMs are being used. While these “always open” machines are becoming more common, however, they’re still far from the norm and will most likely charge customers a fee for “after hours” use. Plus, those of us with post office bank accounts are unable to use our cards at these ATMs, which leaves us at the mercy of standard banking hours.

For foreigners used to having “anytime” access to their funds in their home countries, this limitation can be a little frustrating. After all, if you find yourself in an emergency situation where you need a little extra cash – like when you go shopping and aren’t planning to buy anything, but you see this really cute purse and you just have to have it because omg it will match the new shoes, new top, and new skirt you just bought so perfectly – you might just be out of luck.

So, why is it that many of Japan’s ATMs have service hours? What possible benefit is there to closing them down during hours when people might have a need for them? Well, I harassed a number of Japanese postal/bank employees to find out, and here’s what they said:

• The Profit Margin – Essentially, the number of people using the ATMs after normal business hours (particularly in more rural areas) is not enough to offset the cost of running the ATMs. Banks are businesses, too, after all, so they’re looking to make a profit. If the ATMs aren’t bringing in any money – or, are in fact losing money through the expense of keeping them open for longer hours – the banks would, naturally, shut them down to avoid that extra expense.

• Security – At 24-hour convenience stores there’s always someone on duty who can keep an eye on the ATM(s). Once a bank is closed for the day, however, and everyone’s gone home, there’s no one to check that the machine(s) are secure. This is also why many banks keep their ATMs inside (making them impossible to get to when the building’s locked after business hours) or shield them with glass or bars after hours. In this case, the banks are actually closing down their ATMs to protect their customers’ money by making sure no one can mess with the machine(s) when no one’s around.This reason is also related to the profit margin. If banks leave their ATMs open all night, they’ll also have to spend more money on security for those machines, whether that means hiring an actual person to guard the machines or investing in expensive electronics like security cameras and alarms.

• Safety – The banks are not only concerned with the security of the machines, but with the safety of the people using them. Basically, the banks don’t want to encourage people to be out walking around at night (at least more than they may already be) to use an ATM. There’s also a safety risk of rather “unsavory characters” waiting for someone to use the ATM and then making all sorts of mischief for that person.

• Customer Service – Like the security reason, if an ATM at a convenience store breaks or malfunctions while someone is using it at 2 a.m., there will always be an employee there to help them. At a bank or post office, on the other hand, employees are long gone by 2 a.m. and, therefore, a beloved okyaku-sama (customer) would be left without assistance. With Japan’s impeccable level of customer service, leaving a customer in a problematic situation without aid would be unimaginable.

As the Japanese people I talked to see it, ATMs with service hours aren’t much of an inconvenience. In fact, when I mentioned the above shopping scenario to one post office employee, he simply replied, with a smile, that “it’s good to plan ahead.” So, though I can’t offer any hope that 24-hour ATMs will spread much further than convenience stores (at least in the foreseeable future), hopefully I’ve made the “method behind the madness” a little more clear.

Besides, everyone – maybe even a machine – needs a little vacation every now and then, right?

Teachers’ tables brimming with paperwork. (Photo by Courtney Coppernoll)

By Courtney Coppernoll

Of all the things the Japanese are famous for – sushi, ninja, a level of cuteness that would make kittens nauseous – their work ethic is probably one of the most well-known. Unpaid overtime and weekend workdays are common practice and it’s not unusual for employees to see far more of their co-workers than they do of their families. In fact, the Japanese have become so notorious for their work habits that there is even a Japanese word, karoushi, which means “death from overwork.”*

As most of you already know, teachers in Japan are far from being an exception to this work-centered lifestyle. At my schools, for instance, one kyoto-sensei is always at work by 6:40 a.m. and never leaves before 9:00 p.m. The rest of the teachers routinely work 60-65 hours a week, not including weekends or the hour commute to and from school. Yet, after talking to some of my co-workers, I discovered that this wasn’t always the case. In days gone by teachers used to actually go home at 5 p.m.

Why then, I asked, do they now work so late? I told one teacher that I suspected them of pretending to have meetings until I went home, but that as soon as I was out of sight the balloons and streamers came out and they all had wild parties in the staffroom late into the night. Needless to say she rolled her eyes at me. So, what is it that keeps teachers at school until all hours, and sometimes even overnight?

• Multiple Duties – My teachers all mentioned multiple responsibilities (meaning, in addition to teaching) as a reason for their long hours. The most frequently mentioned time-consumers were supervising clubs or homerooms, teaching or attending demonstration lessons, attending meetings, and preparing for school events (i.e. Culture Festival).

• Job Security – One school secretary told me that, because of the poor economy, teachers are worried about losing their jobs. So, teachers feel the need to be more “competitive” with their co-workers by working longer hours to ensure that their jobs stay safe.

• Fewer Teachers – In many schools around Japan, teaching positions have either been cut or teachers simply aren’t replaced when they retire. For instance, the first grade teacher at one of my schools also serves as the English and music teacher (the latter wasn’t replaced after retirement). The two junior high schools I work at also share the same music and art teachers, who alternate days between the schools. This same trend applies to JETs, who typically visit multiple schools (some going to 15 or more).

• Reports – Every school employee I talked to universally agreed that paperwork is the main cause of longer working hours. The Japanese education system places great value on the “sharing of information” within and between schools, and between schools and boards of education. Plus, one teacher said, the increased use of computers has made it much easier for boards of education to monitor individual teachers and schools. So, in addition to planning and teaching classes, teachers spend a lot of time writing up weekly lesson plans (which must be submitted to the principal for review), compiling test score data, completing and evaluating surveys about various aspects of school life, reporting to the board of education and PTA about school activities, and assessing their fellow teachers’ lessons.

So, there you have it. “Now hold on just one minute,” I hear you saying. “What about my teacher who falls asleep – and snores rather loudly on top of it – in the middle of the staffroom every week? And what about my teachers who never plan lessons, but just follow exactly what the textbook says? What are they doing at school until 8 o’clock at night?” My answer to that, my friends, is simply: “I don’t know, but maybe you could ask them and find out?”

Remember that I am not writing this column to speak for every situation there is (that would conflict far too harshly with the truth of ESID!) I am simply reporting the information I receive from the Japanese around me. There will always be exceptions, but, for many teachers, these are the reasons that keep them at school so late every day.

Still, whatever the drawbacks may be, all the teachers I talked to genuinely enjoy their jobs. I also know of at least one employee at my board of education who would give up his administrative position in a heartbeat to be back in the classroom again. With love like that, who needs shorter hours, right?

* The concept of karoushi has become so prevalent that it’s even been turned into a computer game called “Karoshi: Suicide Salaryman,” in which players take on the role of a blue-suited sarariman from Karoshi Corp. and must die instead of survive in order to clear each level. Play it here: http://www.kongregate.com/games/Venbrux/karoshi-suicide-salaryman

Kotatsu Kitty says hello. (Photo by Matthew McVickar / Published under Flickr Creative Commons License CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Editor’s Note: Today’s column debuts a recurring feature called The Japanese Way. In this monthly column, Courtney Coppernoll will attempt to shed light on how and why certain aspects of Japanese culture differ from our own.

By Courtney Coppernoll

So, you’re a foreigner living in Japan. You’re not exactly sure how you ended up here – one minute you have no idea what you’re going to do after graduation and the next you’re telling three strangers in suits about your lifelong dream to be an English teacher – but here you are nonetheless. You now find yourself in a strange, strange land and you’ve got questions that need answering.

For instance, why are ATMs closed after 5 p.m.? Why is there mayonnaise on your pizza? And why on earth is that vending machine over there filled with lacy underwear? On second thought, you don’t mind that last one so much. Whatever your quandary may be my fine, foreign friend, there is no need to fret. I’m here to put an end to your Japan-induced befuddlement once and for all.*

*Note: If you remain in your befuddled state after reading my articles it is almost certainly due to some failure of communication between yourself and I, not because the article failed to answer your query.

Each month I’ll address some aspect of Japanese living that has a tendency to confuse and/or frustrate… well, anyone who’s not Japanese.

Let me make it clear, though, that the purpose of these articles is not to discuss what is and is not “correct” about the Japanese way of life. Instead, it is my hope that, even if I fail to solve a problem you may have (refer to above notation), that you will at least have a better understanding of why the Japanese do things the way they do after reading my column. At best, I hope you’ll develop a sense of humor about something you previously found frustrating. So, with that in mind, let’s get started!

With colder weather settling in, I thought it’d be appropriate to kick off my column with an age-old complaint made by many foreigners living in Japan: the lack of insulation and central heating in Japanese homes and schools. After all, in many other first world nations, housing regulations make insulation a mandatory part of building construction and trying to sell a house without central heating or air conditioning would be like trying to sell water to a fish (i.e. he might buy it if he were suffocating).

Yet, the Japanese continue to build homes and schools with single-pane glass (which allows the free flow of air between indoors and outdoors) and no insulation. Instead, they make do with localized heating devices such as the kotatsu and kerosene heaters. To be fair, some housing in northern parts of Japan (such as Hokkaido) is required to have central heating, and most department stores and office buildings have it as well, but the majority of Japanese people continue to heat only one or two rooms of their homes during winter.

So, why is it that Japan – a nation touted for its technological advances – lacks what many other countries consider a basic element of building design? Well, after polling many of my (extremely confused, but helpful) Japanese co-workers, I have not just one, but several possible reasons why the Japanese do not insulate or centrally heat their homes and schools.

• The Cost Factor:

Almost every person I talked to mentioned the high cost of central heating as the main reason for not having it in homes and schools. Expense is a factor in other countries as well (my parents’ electric bill goes up more than 50 percent during the winter months), but it seems to be an expense most Japanese can live without. One of my friends even suggested that central heating wastes money because you may be paying to heat an entire house where you’re only actually using one or two rooms. Some websites also claim that the lack of insulation is a way for Japanese construction companies to save money by building houses more cheaply, but so far no one has offered any evidence to support this.

• Short Winters:

Many of the people I asked also said that since Japanese winters are short, houses are built to be comfortable during the hot, humid summer months, rather than the chilly winter ones. Due to a warm water current flowing past the southwestern side of Japan (the Kuroshio Current in case you’re interested) the southern half of Japan at least does tend to have milder, shorter winters. So, according to my co-workers, small space heaters like the kotatsu are sufficient to last through a few short cold months.

• Water Damage:

One friend’s explanation had to do with the traditional building materials for Japanese homes: wood and paper. Due to the extreme humidity Japan experiences in the summer months, homes were traditionally built of thin materials (i.e. materials that allowed air to flow freely between indoors and out) in order to prevent homes from literally rotting away due to all the extra moisture in the air.

• Enjoyment:

Another Japanese friend couldn’t stop talking about how much she loooves her kotatsu. For her, sitting under a kotatsu and having that one, comfortable warm spot when the rest of the room is freezing is a wonderful feeling, and she’d genuinely miss that if her home had central heating.

• Sense of Community:

The reason given by one obaachan I asked is the one that I think may be at the heart of why the Japanese don’t use central heating. She recalled fond memories from her childhood when her whole family would huddle around a single, small kotatsu to have dinner, watch TV, and eat mikan together. For her, a cold house without insulation wasn’t an inconvenience, but an excuse for her family to spend time together and keep each other warm.

I realize that for some of you these explanations may leave you feeling a little less-than-satisfied. After all, preventing water damage is hardly a major concern for those of us who live in impenetrable cement blocks. Likewise, single JETs may take little comfort from the fact that Japanese families bond over their shared hypothermia.

Keep in mind what I said at the beginning, though. This column is meant to give some insight into how the Japanese view their own way of life, however unusual and foreign we may find it to be. So, when you find yourself grumbling and shivering under 20 layers of clothing and blankets next January, hopefully you’ll remember that the Japanese have their own reasons for making houses the way they do. It won’t keep you warm, but it might help ease the suffering…at least a little bit.

Do you have questions you’d like Courtney to explore in The Japanese Way? Email them to wideislandview (atto) gmail (dotto) com.